Silence
by Person With Many Aliases
Summary: It's not about what you can do to the Country, but what the Country can do to you.


Not too many people knew of her real name, and it didn't matter. For all who associated or heard of her, she was Madam Maria, Lady Maria, Dame Maria, and so on. She was getting into her older years, when she wised up to the inherently stupid concept of thinning your body to death to look attractive, when just as many men probably found plumpness to be sexy. She styled her long brunette into expensive curls, and had much fancy clothes. Killer Queen.

Many criticized her for operating an escort service. 'You're sucking the morality out of Italy.'

Madam Maria often pooh-poohed them as she passed her common, ignorant slanderer in the streets to meet boyfriends in the restaurants. Morality? Was there anything left in this country to call moral? A corrupt government, a country threatening to split in two with Padania bombs, and you're worrying about morals? There was nothing underhanded or subtle about her business. She spelt it out herself; it was a "high-end adult fantasy firm, which offered legal sexual and erotic services across the spectrum of adult sexual behavior."

If she sold, that meant people bought. Men wanted to go there, so they went. Women wanted work, knowing full-well what it would entail, but they still came asking, when they could be working in factories or selling flowers or whatever goddamn thing those whiners thought women should be stuck into. This society was to blame if Maria found revenue in escorts, but no, the same damn dick-driven pigs of men that probably fantasized over controlling women's bodies in bed when they were alone.

She took it all in stride enough; Madam Maria had her power in money and knowledge. The fact that _certain_ people came to her services, as blatantly touted as they were, only proved how right she was that men were men.

Then of course, one day, some dumb-ass journalist managed to bring out a full-scale investigation into what appeared to be several government officials mixed up in a "prostitution" ring, they called it.

Of course, every one pointed fingers at Madam Maria and the other politicians. Most of them resigned, but Maria kept her head up.

Her business is exactly what it was, right across the doorstep, and nothing more. She didn't peddle drugs, her escorts were all over eighteen and properly warned and insured. As long as didn't duck her head like the others, people would always think she is exactly what she is, as much of a "vile destroyer of society" or whatever bullshit they coughed up. Not like her politician clients. The moment they ducked out of sight, the people would talk. Maybe they really went to Madam Maria for "just massages" or "just a date", or "just some companionship", but the people would always read it the wrong way, because Madam Maria answered the questions truthfully, and they didn't. They weren't worth trusting.

The truth may sting, but an implication kills, for the stories go much deeper and wilder than just a "vile destroyer of society".

They decided to press charges on Madam Maria, because of her business. She decided to fight. If anything, the people who went to her most obvious business of vice were the ones at fault. She offered photos, phone numbers, and so on about certain officials who came to her. But it was just the beginning. Lady Maria was a businesswoman. She knew how to tease the mind along just right so that they could say no, but she knew people would as "But what's the rest of it?"

The rest of it stretched all the way into the Ministry of the Interior, of Defense. Madam Maria had the list of clients, and was threatening to sell it if it would pay for her defense. She could blow the entire government out of the water with shock, and she could at any time.

Dame Maria told the reporters, "I'm not going to prison for a day, let alone four to five years, because I'm shy about bringing in the Head Commissioner of the Department of Whatever."

People came to her, asking for the truth that they couldn't get out of "Just" politicians. Politicians quietly came in and out of her offices, girls soon to be in tow, or paying off the bills.

Dame Maria had power. Dame Maria could fight.

The Padania Republic Faction enthusiastically hailed her through the papers, "ready to reveal the disgusting corruption that infects the South, that we the North are forced to feed with our sweat and toil". It was full of hot air of course, just mongering and flaunting. Anybody with half a brain should be able to see that. Like the North of Italy was any better than the South. A head of a snake, a tail of a snake, but either evokes disgust because it's a snake. And for the North, all they really wanted in the end was for the South to stop taxing their sports and porn industries. A toast to you, fellow revolutionaries, your gold-heartedness in trying to blow the South up into an apocalyptic revolution truly will inspire the future generations.

At any rate, Madam Maria, like any good woman with manners, blushed and giggled publicly at the proclamations by those common, ignorant, northern sweet talkers, but thought nothing of it. She still thanked them for their support, out of courtesy, of course.

* * *

The day after, Lady Maria headed outside for lunch, in between running her business and preparing her defense. Heading across the sun-baked cobblestone of the streets, she bumped into a girl.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" The girl hiccupped.

"Oh, don't be. It was an accident." Dame Maria royally and diplomatically hushed. What a dear, with that cute blouse and skirt, with her short hair and band, and her cute little music case that she held in front of her with both hands.

And they parted like that, Madam Maria to her eatery, while the girl went off to an outdoor gelato stand.

By the seat by the front window, Madam Maria gave a satisfied smile, watching the girl return to a bench, talking animatedly to a man in a suit, probably her father or older brother. Or something. Funny, they didn't look _too_ alike.

Madam Maria spent her lunch watching the girl sit in the bench eating her gelato. The girl still stayed there when she left to return to work.

* * *

The day after, Lady Maria headed to lunch. Same old, same old.

Lady Maria found a girl in her usual window spot, idly planting her face on her deep tanned cheek, blonde streams coming out the side of her head, in heavy contrast to her dark suit. Lady Maria was never one too fashionable for women burying their assets under men's clothes, especially under one so young.

"What?" The girl asked at Dame Maria when she spent a little too long mentally ticking over the pointer of the girl's clothing. It was a woman thing, for Lady Maria.

"Oh nothing. Did I disturb you?"

"No. You?"

"No, waiting for someone?"

"He's always late." The tanned girl snorted.

Madam Maria nodded her head like it was a common secret between women, and settled herself in another chair and ate. How independent, a girl of her age to wait by herself. If she were any younger, Madam Maria would have been worried and had a few words with her father. Not long later, a man came by.

"You're late."

"Sorry."

And they lunched fairly expensively at the same rate Lady Maria did. They all seemed to pay at the same time, and all made movements to leave. Madam Maria stopped by the man for a quick chat.

"Are you her father?"

"Guardian."

"I suppose it would have been better to guess that first. But really! You should have your daughter wear some nice dresses. All those dark suits don't do her face justice. Wouldn't you like your daughter to look pretty?"

The man's face was straight, which was pretty much an obvious sign he wanted to say no in a diplomatic manner, but didn't quite find the answer yet.

"Believe me, she's not exactly the fondest about dressing to please."

"I see."

"Hey, let's go." The girl cut in, as she pulled a long cylindrical case and straps across her shoulder. Madam Maria's widened.

"What's that you're carrying?"

"An easel. I have painting classes." The girl easily responded.

"Isn't it heavy for you?"

"Don't worry. I'm strong."

The trio parted like that. Lady Maria found it odd, that throughout the entire conversation, neither the girl nor her father called the other by name.

Oh well, maybe they were just really informal like that. God knows enough lower-class families were picking up that atrocious behavior. It was probably there that delinquency began, since they couldn't even be reigned in to call their elders by name

The whole country's going mad at this rate, Madam Maria figured to herself as she headed back to her offices to continued her work. Somebody wanted to hire Nicola for the day, and she needed to get it set up.

* * *

The day after, Lady Maria's suspicion over the coincidences started to mount on the hairs on the back of her neck.

Out in the streets, while she ate her lunch, she watched a girl with long dark hair talk to a man with glasses about the things in the shops they passed by.

In her hand was a case. For an instrument, obviously.

Like that girl yesterday had an easel in that long tube. Like the girl before that had a case for what was probably a violin.

And the two just kept pacing back and forth between the shops, but they seemed not to lose interest enough to entire leave the place.

A young girl who was accompanied by a man who did not look related by blood, and all of them carrying a case with what was _probably_ what was supposed to be in there.

Something just kept irking a wrong in Madam Maria's mind. The same sort of wrong she felt before she found each of her three previous husbands divorcing her, before she up and figured all men were worthless except for their money.

But what was it? It felt like she was being _watched, _except it sounded stupid. Being watched by an unlikely pair of a girl and a man? For what? Maybe someone was playing a joke on her, or maybe some enemy of her business was deciding to be nasty, by making an implication about the pairing of a young girl to a completely unrelated man…

It didn't explain the case. What did that mean? Madam Maria's mind conditioned to the profits of lust always kept positing that objects inside were maybe sex-toys just to complete the message, but she kept brushing them off to be nothing more than a sick fantasy after spending too long peddling beautiful women to lonely men.

But what did it all mean? A girl, a case, a man, always near her.

Something just kept irking wrong. Lady Maria decided to pack what was left of her lunch and finish it in her office.

After all, she had a busy schedule today. No sense dallying over irrelevant things like this strange set of coincidences.

* * *

Madam Maria's car decided to pick a high time to start having a faulty engine. Being as she was, she never had too much knowledge about machinery, but she still kicked the BMW hard out of desperation.

Great, now she had to take a taxi to and back. Rich as she was, she didn't like spending money on little things like these when she should have had a perfectly working car that wasn't even that old.

At the very least, there were no girls with cases and suspicious men presiding over her lunching area that day. Thank heavens for a little respite of mind.

Lady Maria thoroughly enjoyed that sandwich that day.

Night came, time to go home. Thank you Eliana, look over things here. No, I'll be fine by myself, take care. Yes, I've got plenty of life in me yet, I'll walk home if it comes to that.

It came to that. No taxis came for a while. Well, bother that. Madam Maria walked.

And crossing across the cool cobblestones of the streets, she heard other clatters of feet behind her.

A pair. One was more rapid than the other.

The sort of rapid footsteps of a child. Probably one with a case, too.

Lady Maria kept on walking, and so did they.

But, tosh! They couldn't do anything to her. It was just a man and a child! Like a man could do anything with a child nearby?

For some reason, Dame Maria started to walk faster. So did they.

Something was off. Something was off. Something. Three days. Three girls. Three men. Three cases. What did they want from her? Surely it wasn't about that case with the politicians, right? What did a man and a child have to do with politicians?

* * *

Lady Maria idly listened to the gossip between her girls, as they shared tales between them while awaiting new men.

"But doesn't your boyfriend know that working in the Padania is dangerous? They're terrorists!"

"Not they way Ivo tells me. The North forced to do everything for the South with nothing in return. I think he's doing very brave work, and no more dangerous that being in the police fighting the Padania. Besides, Ivo has a safe job. He doesn't go out doing disgusting work like killing people or blowing up buildings, he just keeps the accounts for them."

"Really."

"Still, he gets lots of interesting stories from the fighters, though. Very strange stuff. Sounds mostly like glorified urban legends, if you ask me."

"Like what?"

"Well, the Padania has this story about some secret death squad the Italian government has. They use them to eliminate annoyances that government might have with certain people."

"Yeah, and?"

"Get this. All of them are girls no older that thirteen."

"Okay, that's stupid!"

"I know! Like, how can any of them fire a gun? The fighters say they see little girls running up to them shooting them with machine guns. It's rather ludicrous, right?"

"Why would they use girls so young?"

"I don't know. Apparently is because nobody would suspect a little girl to be an assassin. If they can even hold a machine gun in the first place. I can't even hold a pistol properly!"

The girls laughed.

* * *

Dame Maria broke into a run.

So did they.

Dame- Dame- Da- Maria heaved and panted as she ran as best as she could with her body. But the body felt slower and more painful every passing second, heat eating into her thighs.

Oh god- oh god- oh god. They want to kill me. I had clients in the government and they're going to kill me for it. Oh god.

Stumbling into an empty grass lot by the river side, Lad-Da-Da-Mada-Maria heaved and coughed, leaning on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

The brush tousled. Maria turned around with a shriek as something jumped onto her.

Oh god, it was a girl. It was hardly reached no higher than her chest, but weighed like she was made of a block of steel and she was sitting on her, those cold lifeless blue eyes under her short blond hair. Maria tried to scream but something smashed into the side of her mouth, snapping bone and sending a gout of blood and a few teeth out of her mouth.

Oh god, the child just _punched _her with enough force to break her jaw, that shock stopped her screaming more than the sudden sensation of pain, though that helped too.

The child pulled out a knife, a thin little thing that you could buy in any store and no larger than a finger, and oh god don't kill me even if I can't say that while my mouth is giving out a few pathetic garbles. The child started working the knife over the front of her dress for a small incision, before she simply just grabbed the clothe and just ripped the whole thing off her chest and pulled off her bra and pried the panties off her and oh god.

Maria gave a slack scream, eyed widened in terror at everything that was happening, oh god just get off! GET OFF! Don't touch me! But she only felt her nose break as her head slammed back into the grass from the blow of the bloody fist before the girl went about systematically grabbing Maria's breasts, her thighs, her hips, her neck, her shoulders with enough to heavily bruise them, every once in a while bashing her head just to keep her quiet, and she systematically slid Maria by the hips across the ground back and forth so that her back and buttocks would get filled with little cuts-

And a knife punctured Maria's chest. She looked up at the thing that was penetrating her heart in shock, like the mind had ascended the body to escape this torture and now it was a bad idea as she realized she was watching Maria die, while blood welled up from under the handle and out of her mouth-

And the knife flashed across Maria's throat and the choked for a few seconds as the blood poured down her throat and out of her neck-

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* * *

**Today at 6:00 AM this morning the body of Maria Ramos was discovered dead in a vacant lot in Rome. Evidence suggests she was beaten and raped before being stabbed to death. Maria Ramos was the head of an adult fantasy firm "Ramos e Soci", which was under investigation by the Parliament for links to illegal practices, such as drug trafficking and employing women under the age of consent. Maria Ramos leaves behind three children at the age of three, five, and eleven.**

**Additional reporting by Reuters.**

Jean folded up the paper and left it on the table while he headed off to collect Rico for target practice.

**End**

* * *

**"Gunslinger Girl" series property of Yu Aida.**


End file.
